Skeletons
by LoveAngel1705
Summary: "I am sorry Agent Reid. Your father has been murdered." When had he sunk to the ground?
1. Prologue

Just for those who might be otherwise unaware, I DON'T OWN CRIMINAL MINDS.

* * *

PROLOGUE

* * *

The truth is often a terrible weapon of aggression. It is possible to lie, and even to murder, with the truth.

Alfred Adler (1870 - 1937)

* * *

The papers and pictures sat on the desk, ragged from the wear of being flipped through multiple times. Trophies, was that the word?

No, it couldn't be. That man had never gotten the chance to act, not with the boy in the pictures. No doubt he was obsessed with the boy, but it didn't matter. I never let him get that far. _With him,_ my brain reminded me.

A smile spread across my face as the most worn picture dropped to the ground. I really did miss him.

They would come. He would come. Wouldn't they? He? Would that really be a good thing?

My work here was almost finished. There were no fingerprints, no DNA, nothing that would link that man to his murderer, and still the pictures would bring them, _him_, to this place.

Or they could be taken and no one would ever know? Moving on without fear was truly enticing. Those two boys waiting in the car deserved to be able to move on.

Then, only he would come. Maybe not even him, considering what a horrible man laid dead on the floor. Would his son really come to his funeral?

I allowed myself to imagine that the cops would rule his death accidental. No one would have to be hurt by his death, well except for the leeches he worked with. If there was a group of people she hated worse than policemen, it had to be the greedy leeches that called themselves lawyers. All because of this man and yet these imaginations would never happen.

This would be ruled a murder, and the murder of an FBI agent's father would definitely bring his team here.

Could he still truly care about this man?

He shouldn't. He should hate him with a fiery passion.

Then again, from everything his mother said, he doesn't even remember. I wish I had that luxury.

The sight of the man's blood made a single tear slide down, and I wiped before it could hit the ground. Maybe, just maybe, some part of me loved him. Was that even possible, or was it just some sort of relief.

Breathing deeply, an inner voice reminded me that the world was better off without him. It didn't need another deadbeat father. It didn't need another father like him.

I grabbed a pair of the dead man's gloves, picking up the bloodied axe. I had to hide it somewhere, but where? I'd have hid it in the attic if there was any way for me to get up the stairs.

I wheeled out into his back yard, but soon a light bulb went off in my head. Dad's hiding place for the pictures of the more recent kids. No one would know to look there and no one would find it without finding some way into the sick, and now dead, man's head. It simply wasn't possible.

I rolled myself into the barn, bloodied axe lying across my lap. There was no doubt that these clothes were going to have to be burned.

Soon after entering the barn, I opened the false door hidden behind his trophy case. I lowered it in a basket to the ground, into a hole directly below that the dead man used to hide his dirty laundry. The problem is that I wasn't sure where exactly it was located.

I heard a kerplunk sound, and immediately turned away, replacing the heavy trophy case. I left the weapon there, before turning back to the house.

I wanted to say goodbye to him for some strange reason, but knew better.

Firstly, I aligned the man's body, trying to make him at least a bit more comfortable. Again, I wheeled myself back out to the car, offering a small smile to the still traumatized boys.

The pictures and papers were gathered as I had rushed out the door. I quickly shoved them into the trunk, and took my children back to the house, immediately calling my therapist to find someone who specialized in children.

* * *

Agent Hotchner watched from his desk as Agents Morgan and Prentiss laughed at something Agent Reid did or said. Rossi was out on a consult with the local police department. No doubt JJ was pouring over many different cases, looking through horror after horror. Garcia had left an hour ago to help with at the local family center.

Morgan had said the day before that he was happy for the little break, and Hotch was happy to spend some time with Jack.

He smiled, reverting back to watching the agents tease, but things had changed. Morgan and Prentiss were watching Reid walking away, with a distressed look on his face. His cell phone was at his ear as he walked out the door.

* * *

Take deep breaths. Calm down.

_I am sorry Agent Reid. Your father has been murdered. As part of protocol…_

Spencer could not decide what to feel, how to feel. Normally his brain worked at an abnormally fast speed, but it wasn't the same now.

He needed to get to Vegas, figure out who did this. Tell his sister. The same sister he hadn't talked to since his dad took her and left him alone with his schizophrenic mother.

He wasn't sure he could do that.

He owed that to his father, didn't he? Did he owe that to his sister? She deserved to hear it from someone she once knew, right? Had the police already called her?

"What's wrong kid," the familiar voice asked from above him. When had he sunk to the ground? Spencer looked up at to find Derek and Emily, concerned with a tint of worry. Hotch stood just behind them, solid and strong.

* * *

Lexi Branson scrubbed at the shirt, trying desperately to clean the blood. Her sons were doing their homework like nothing happened.

Something felt very wrong about this. Anyone looking at her would think she was calm, cool, and collected. Out of her own nervousness, she stroked the two bold red streaks she had in her naturally blonde hair.

She soon scrubbed at her father's blood, trying to get out the stain. Her blouse was the last article of clothing. Once she got enough out, she would burn it, just like the others.

"Mom, I'm hungry," her youngest, Chase, shouted across the house. His voice was still shaky.

"I'll bring something in a little while. The both of you stay where you are," she instructed. The girl wanted desperately to pretend that nothing had happened.

Lexi had already scheduled a therapist for the boys. They'd need help to get through this.

She wondered if she would as well. She wanted desperately to pretend that her dad had just finally decided to leave her alone, but he was dead, gone forever.

How was that possible?

She looked down at her favorite blouse, the one her mom had sent her two years ago for her twelfth birthday, even though she was already in her early thirties. Although she would have to say, her mom had been so much better since moving into the hospital.

Ignoring the teardrops falling, she stopped scrubbing before tossing it into the fire. The pictures and paper clippings of Spencer were thrown in as well.

She told herself it was for the best, and yet she wasn't sure.

She was terrified, hurt, and worried, but she knew better than to let it show too much.

Lexi forced herself to put on the front that she knew her boys needed, by ignoring the ringing phone and putting on some chicken noodle soup.

No one would ever know what happened, right? Her phone rang for the eighth time in the last twenty minutes. There was no more avoiding the world.

'Hello.'

'Hello Alexia.'

'Who is this?'

'Rei…Spencer. It's Spencer. H-have the police contacted you?'

'Spencer? No, but why would they?' She told herself to be strong.

'D-dad's dead. He was killed.'

That was all it took. The floodgates opened and flowed as the weight of the day's events fell on her shoulders.

* * *

"_Please, just stay here, dad. Please," the seven year old begged. His older sister stood at the door, trying to memorize anything and everything that had to do with them. _

_Thirteen year old Lexi watched, hoping that this was the right answer. She hoped this was for the best._

_Spencer cried as his father left, taking his sister behind him. How could __**she**__ do this to him? _

"_Spence?"_

"_Spence?"_

"Spencer, come on man. We just landed," Morgan cajoled.

Morgan was worried. Ever since Spencer received the call about his dad's murder, he had been almost completely silent. It was completely out of character.

One thing was for sure. His team would be there to get him through this.


	2. 1

I don't own Criminal Minds.

I'm glad some of you liked this, and I hope you continue to do so.

So here ya go.

* * *

Spencer Reid's weight was held up by Derek Morgan as he walked away from his father's dead body. He had to see the man in the morgue, for the simple fact that he just couldn't imagine him dead.

True, Spencer didn't remember much about his father, even with an eidetic memory. His childhood was vague, with the exception of the night his father left. The wound had been stitched, but it was hard for Reid to imagine anyone wanting to kill his father, especially like that.

Granted, he had seen him one time since he walked out many years before, but his father was a good man according to everyone who had made their way to talk to him, since he got into town.

_...or no one wants to speak ill of the dead..._

Spencer told that annoying voice, sounding much like logic to shut up.

He was just glad that Morgan was here at the moment. He knew Morgan knew what he was going through, losing his father as a kid.

Prentiss, JJ, and Rossi still had a father out there, even if they weren't necessarily close, and Spencer had never heard the Unit Chief mention his father one way or another. Morgan and Garcia were the only ones who had gone through this type of thing, and Garcia had been mothering him since the second she found out.

In fact, she walked toward him at that moment with a glass of water and a book. As she got closer, he read the title _The Classic Fairy Tales_. He smiled, thinking of the time he had explained to her that he'd never seen the Disney movies, that he'd read Grimm's fairy tales. Garcia had been horrified and had blocked out the entire weekend to "claim his childhood."

Thanks, Garcia," he told her, offering a weak smile and finally standing without Morgan holding him up.

"How are you holding, my junior G-man?" Penelope asked gently. Spencer could see the others looking on in concern behind her, and knew Morgan was wondering too at his left. He wanted to...well, at this point he really wasn't sure what he wanted, but he knew what they needed. They needed to know he was doing okay, that he wasn't going to fall apart.

So, he lied, "I-I'm okay."

Hotch's voice spoke up quickly, "Garcia, take him back to the hotel. Reid, I want you to rest."

"No, Hotch," he answered, stronger this time, "I need to know what happened."

"...and you will, but first you need to rest," Hotch returned sternly, leaving no room for argument and giving Garcia a key to the SUV.

As he was leaving the room with Garcia, he heard Hotch continue, "We have been officially invited into the investigation, so Morgan, you and Emily are going with one of the detectives who is conducting interviews. Rossi..."

Spencer knew that Hotch was continuing but was no longer in the vicinity to hear.

"You don't have to drive me back, you know..." Reid told Garcia.

"I know. I want to help."

Spencer looked down, "I'm not sure you can."

"Hmm?"

"Nothing."

Spencer sat in the passenger seat of the SUV, just like every other SUV they used when going across the country. He wondered when he would see his mother, if he should offer to bring her to the funeral. She knew he didn't hate his dad, but would she want to go to the funeral of the man who left her and him? Would Bennington let her go?

Maybe he should be talking with his sister, helping her through it. Family is supposed to help during these times, right?

Then again, they hadn't spoken since she walked out with his father, with the exception of their two minute phone call that some child, probably her son, had hung up.

"...pizza," he heard a voice, and it took him a second to realize that Garcia had asked him something.

"I-I'm sorry. What did you say?"

"I asked if you wanted to order pizza, sweet pea."

"Yeah, sure. Did you know that pizza delivery have the fifth most dangerous job..."

* * *

Derek Morgan surveyed the house, knowing Emily was beside him. There was a ramp leading into the door of a single story house. The detective in front of him told Emily and Morgan that this was their main suspect, but as of yet, no name had even been mentioned.

The detective was adamant, though, that this was their person, which meant one of two things: tunnel vision or actual unsub.

It seemed improbable already though. Not many people had handicap-accessible housing without a handicap. It was not unheard of that the unsubs were handicapped and trying to compensate, though.

The detective knocked on the door, and after several seconds, a woman came into the door, opening it slowly and revealing her wheelchair. Her eyes were slightly red, and she immediately recognized the cop, "Well, at least today you waited on harassing me 'til my kids were with a babysitter."

The slightly overweight agent countered quickly, "You and I both know who killed William Reid. If you cared for those kids at all, you'd turn yourself in..."

She opened the door the rest of the way so that she could look at the man straight on, and telling him, "I don't care what you think about me as a person, but those boys are my life and you know it. Now if you're going to charge me with something, go right ahead. Otherwise, I'm asking you to leave. Now."

Morgan had seen the woman's body tense as soon as she saw the detective. She was defensive and that never boded well.

"Ma'am, I'm from the FBI Behavioral Analysis Unit," Morgan told her, stepping forward and effectively averting her attention.

Her eyes flickered from Morgan to Emily and then landed again on Morgan. "You're here because of Spencer then..."

Morgan stood stunned for a second, and turned, seeing that Emily looked confused as well. Morgan turned back to the woman who wheeled aside to let them come in, all the while glaring at the detective. The house was messy as toys laid all around the room. Pictures of two young boys were all around the room and prominent, along with a test with 100 under a magnet on the barely visible refrigerator.

Her eyes were red-rimmed, presumably from tears and she looked exhausted. Morgan stepped forward, knowing Emily was letting him take control for the sole reason that he was the one who had gotten her to open the door. He could hear the mutterings under the breath of the detective behind him.

"SSA Derek Morgan, SSA Emily Prentiss, and apparently you know Detective Watson."

"Lexi Branson," she began, "I'd say it's a pleasure, but apparently this isn't a social call."

Lexi breathed in deeply, trying to calm herself.

"How do you know Spencer," Emily asked gently.

"I think knew would be the more appropriate word Agent Prentiss. I haven't seen him since we were kids, but apparently they didn't tell you who I was," at the shakes of the FBI Agents heads, she continued, "My name is Lexi Branson, but before marriage, and subsequent divorce, my name was Lexi Reid. Spencer is my younger brother. Dad dies, and apparently the family is the only choice, even if he's a lawyer who angers clients constantly."

The latter part of the statement had been pointed at the detective while she glared, who simply shot back, "You hated your father, made false statement after false statement..."

"Don't you dare blame me for your incompetence."

"Wait, you're Reid's sister," Morgan cut in, after taking several seconds to process.

Emily's mouth hung open, as they heard the door open.

"MOMMY! Mikey hit Lizzie at Ms. Johnson's today." Morgan watched as the woman closed her eyes, again taking a deep breath.

Emily smiled, stepping forward. "I'll watch them for a while, so you can finish this."

Lexi returned the small smile, "Please, just remember I'm the daughter of a lawyer. Ask them anything about this without me in the room and I'll sue you. Chase does not understand completely that his grandfather isn't coming back, and Michael is really angry right now. Just, please..."

Prentiss assured the woman, who then turned back to Morgan and Watson.

"I guess this is where the interrogation begins..."


	3. 2

I don't own Criminal Minds.

I'm glad some of you liked this, and I hope you continue to do so.

So here ya go.

* * *

Spencer paced the floor. Despite all the growing up he had done since joining the BAU, he still had no idea what he was supposed to do or how to deal with something like this.

He knew that the others worried about him, but they worried just a bit too much. Sometimes he felt like the baby brother that no one seemed to believe could stand on his own two feet.

Processing everything just seemed to make the situation seem all the more dire. He just found out that the first person on the police's suspect list was his sister. Emily called to tell him that Morgan was interviewing her alongside a very hostile policeman. They'd all seen it before, and Morgan knew the damage it could do first hand, so he knew that Derek would keep everything under control.

When he heard a child crying in the background, Emily told him she had to go. Apparently Alexia left his two nephews in Emily's care, after a short warning about boundaries.

He didn't know where to put this. Sure, he didn't know his sister at all. He never even cared to try. For years, she would call to talk with him, but he had carefully pushed her away, angrily refusing to answer.

After a while, the calls stopped being every day, and became once a week, once a month, once every two or three months. After three years, she stopped trying.

She gave up on him.

He knew that wasn't fair to her, but most of what he remembered that night was his sister practically pulling his dad away from him and out the door.

Now, nearly fifteen years later, he probably wouldn't even recognize her if he passed her on the street. The only reason he knew she had two sons was Emily.

He wondered what she looked like, slender and tall like him and his mother or slightly larger framed and shorter like his...

Still...

A murderer?

Reid didn't even slightly believe that she would be capable of that, or at least the girl he knew wasn't. Even if she was, why would the girl, who fought so desperately to be the only person in her father's world, hate him enough to kill him?

It didn't make sense to him, on any level.

Soon after, though, a thousand stalker scenarios of love gone wrong from his studies in psychology and years in the Behavioral Analysis Unit told him it was possible.

Gideon even told him once that intense love was only a breath away from intense hate.

Again, he wondered if this wouldn't have been a good thing to discuss with his mother. He knew they still kept in touch.

His mom even talked about her sometimes, for a second, before he would cut her off.

He had been angry with her for years, but still...murder?

"A penny for them..." Garcia interrupted.

She answered, seeing his confused face, "your thoughts, Sugarplum."

"I-I think I need to go talk to my mom. I t-think she'll know."

"Okay, point me to Bennington," she said, smiling.

"Garcia, I think I need to talk to her alone," he hated the way that her face fell, but she still handed him the keys.

"Thanks, Garcia."

"Be careful Spencer."

* * *

"So, how do you think I did it," Lexi asked, eyes trained on the detective.

"Why don't you tell me where you got the axe and where you put it," he shot back. Morgan saw her eyes narrow, a look coming over her face that oddly reminded him of the way Elle dealt with annoyances.

"Well, I bought it at the hardware store, wheeled thirteen blocks without it cutting up my legs, and nobody saw me enter the house with because I forgot to tell you that I had on an invisibility cloak. I don't own an axe, idiot. What would be the point? I don't have the core strength to chop trees or whatever you do with those things, but go right ahead...accuse me anyway."

"Hey, we're not here to upset you, Lexi," Morgan began; ignoring the other man's "_speak for yourself."_ "We just want the truth."

"The truth is that I could carry an axe a short distance, but it would be extremely difficult to pick up from the ground, and probably very heavy, although I don't know much about the things. I know there was an axe somewhere in his house. Chase wanted a real tree for Christmas last year and asked dad to help us pick one out. He and Chase chopped it down with an axe that dad had bought at some store a few weeks before."

Derek knew he needed to shift the interrogation, make it less threatening to her, and there was only one way to do that. "Okay, can you focus on me here? I'm here to help you. Okay?"

At her small nod, he continued, "Where were you at the time of your father's death?"

"What time was that, exactly? Last time I talked to someone, they hadn't released the information," Lexi seemed worried and hesitant, her voiced had become quieter. This subject bothered her, more than she had let on when things had been confrontational. Her body language was much easier to read now.

The part of him that was loyal to his surrogate brother wanted it to mean that she felt sorry that her father was dead, and he could see that it bothered her a lot. Then again, she was also extremely tense, even when looking just at him.

He sighed, knowing he couldn't rule her out, "Time of death was 11:12 yesterday morning."

Some tension left her shoulders, "I was just coming out of a conference with one of my students and my TA Claire Woodson."

"Liar," the detective sneered.

Morgan watched as the control he'd had over the situation evaporated, Lexi wheeled purposefully toward the detective, handing him her phone after hitting some buttons and speaking in the most dangerous tone he'd heard from this girl, "Claire Woodson's number. Students' name was...Dawson. Call or get the hell out of my house!"

Both children came in from the other room, one staring blankly while the other cried and held his ears.

Derek's eyes locked on Reid's sister. In a matter of seconds, all anger drained from her, as she rolled straight to the child, whispering comforting words as she rocked the kid. He couldn't have been older than six or seven years old, Morgan realized and remembered her mentioning that he didn't quite understand.

Morgan had to admit, though, he could already see that she was as much a mother bear as JJ.

He only hoped that the profile didn't fit her, because he could see from just the last fifteen minutes that she could be vicious if provoked.

She could kill someone, if someone were to push the right button.


	4. 3

I don't own Criminal Minds.

I'm glad some of you liked this, and I hope you continue to do so.

There is going to be the slightest crossover with NUMB3RS, but not major. One O/C is more than enough for one story. I don't own NUMB3RS either.

All you really need to know (if you don't watch it) is that Charlie is a genius, particularly with Math, who is in a relationship with Amita, and his brother, Don, is with the FBI. I may mention Amita or Larry, a cosmologist, but just in passing.

Also, after this chapter, it'll focus more closely on Criminal Minds than on Lexi for a while.

So here ya go.

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Diana Reid stared absently out the window, paying it little attention. She was trying desperately to quell the voice inside of her head that told her that William's sins were going to be brought up, his worst attributes brought to light. She had spent so many years trying to protect Spencer from the reality of who Will had been.

She didn't know who would be worse off when it all came out. Either her Spencer or her little Lexi were going to be hurt immensely. Her schizophrenia, even back then, had been bad.

Part of the reason that she never wanted to go on the meds was the knowledge that when her mind was clear to focus, even through the fog the pills brought, reality would be impossible to block out.

She had failed Spence and Lexi badly and there was nothing she could do to change it.

Lexi knew everything, always had, and some part of Diana wanted to understand how her daughter could still love him, or her (because she played a role in it too).

Her precious and intelligent little Spencer didn't know the truth though. There were times that she wondered how much he did remember of his father, and several times that she had thought he was remembering, particularly when he was so insistent on finding that imaginary friend of his that turned out to not be so imaginary.

For the last week, Diana had done everything in her power to stay lucid. She knew her children were going to need her.

Although when Lexi had come and brought her beautiful grand-kids, she knew that her daughter knew what happened to Will. Lexi's eyes told such a sad story. Diana listened as her daughter made her way through what happened, slowly and decisively, as the children played with a nurse.

William wasn't truly dead, for her, until the words came out of her daughter's mouth.

She had known since the beginning that it would take time, but Spencer would make his way to the Hospital. She really wasn't surprised to see him hesitate of few steps from her. She saw it in the reflection of the window. He'd always been hesitant and now he was looking for answers.

"M-mom…" he began, but before he got too far, Diana patted the seat of the chair next to her. He walked slowly to it, before sitting down. His mother placed a gentle kiss on his forehead, before telling him, "I'm sorry, Spencer."

After he took a while to calm himself, Spencer looked up, asking his mother directly, "Is there any way that Lexi did this?"

Diana gently ran a hand through her son's hair, "Your sister did what she needed to do at the time, but I cannot tell you whether or not she did."

"Why," he asked simply, trying to hide the small part of him that was still hurt when his mom took his sister's side. He knew that it was childish and selfish, but he was still sometimes jealous of how his parents always treated her. He actually remembered much more about her than he did about his father, and he still couldn't figure out why.

"What happened at your father's house…anything else about this…Alexia swore me to secrecy," she said softly.

"I came as your son, but if you know something…"

"Spencer, there are some things that we are just better off not knowing. 'The truth is rarely pure and…" she began.

Spencer cut her off, finishing the quote "…never simple. Oscar Wilde. "The Importance of Being Earnest." 1895. Mom, I still need to know."

"I promised your sister, and I will not break that promise, but maybe you should ask her."

"I've not spoken to her since…"

"Alexia tried to talk to you. You refused."

"I was angry, still am."

"Can you put that aside for ten, maybe fifteen minutes and go ask her?"

Spencer knew that she was right. He really should, but…

He realized he had finally run out of reasons and excuses. Spencer hugged his mom, before walking out the door, and dialing Garcia.

"You doing okay, my Junior G-man?"

"Not really, Garcia. Can you tell me where my sister, Alexia Branson, lives?"

"You're going?"

"…and I could use some company, to make sure I go through with it."

On the other end of the line, Garcia smiled, before telling him to pick her up at the hotel.

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Hotch poured over the information received from the LVPD. There were still a couple of cops here that were whispering about the last time they were in town, and apparently worried that they were trying to blemish a good man's name again. It was probably a good thing that Reid had been sent home for this.

Garcia had just sent the financial information, as well as any other information about Lexi. She protested, of course, that she hated digging into lives of people like she had Morgan, emphasizing that this was Spencer's sister.

JJ helped look through the financial while he and Rossi attempted to piece together a profile from what they had, which didn't actually amount to a lot, but the detectives were eager to pin this on the young genius's sister.

JJ interrupted his thoughts, "Hotch, there's not anything really strange, except for one thing about her bank account."

"What's that," Rossi asked for them both.

"A huge payment was made to a Doctor Leanne Romine the morning after Reid's father died," JJ explained.

Immediately, Hotch pulled out his phone and dialed a familiar number, quickly putting it on speaker.

"Mistress of the information superhighway at your service, our fearless leader," Garcia greeted.

JJ chuckled a bit to herself, needing the most of levity with the craziness of looking into Spence's sister's past.

"We just need a quick address Garcia."

"Good. My junior G-man will be here in a minute and I need to be ready to take him to see his sister."

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Lexi watched as the boys got onto the school bus, hoping once again that those two would be okay. She rolled back into the house and glared at the phone, blaming it for the phone call she received the night before.

Fired.

All of this was just simply ridiculous. Lexi grabbed her cell phone, walking out into the back yard for better reception.

Things were getting crazy here, and she needed to make arrangements for the boys, just in case. There were only a handful of people she trusted to take care of her sons.

She dialed her cousin's number at the office at Cal Sci. Charlie would have gotten there a couple of hours early.

Lexi wasn't surprised when Larry answered the phone, "Hey, Space-boy, it's Lexi. Can I speak to Charlie?"

"By the urgency in your voice, it must be important," he began before talking to away from the phone receiver, "Charlie, your cousin."

After several seconds of shuffling, Charlie answered, "Hey Lexa, everyone okay?"

"Charlie, I may need you to do something that I'd prefer you not talk to Don about it. I don't want him involved," Lexi said.

Charlie seemed to think it over a second, "what do you need?"

"Someone may need to take my boys for a while. I'm being investigated for my dad's death," she said.

"Your father's dead? I'll be there as soon as I can. How's Aunt Diana," he asked.

"She's coherent, and seems to understand what's going on. I think she's more worried about Spencer and I. Oh, by the way, he's here too with his entire team. Thanks Charlie," she told him.

"I'll go pack, and then I'll be off," he answered, before hanging up.

She heard a car pulling into the driveway. She watched a colorful, smiling woman get out and gently teasing a very grown-up Spencer.

_I wondered how long it would take for him to come._

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AN: I won't necessarily immediately go to the scene between Spencer and Lexi. There are a few important case points that I need to work on before their conversation will make complete sense.


	5. 4

I don't own Criminal Minds.

I'm glad some of you liked this, and I hope you continue to do so.

So here ya go.

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The long blonde haired lady who was the (apparent) therapist for Reid's family, gave them next to nothing on their case, hiding behind doctor-patient confidentiality laws. Derek was beginning to get frustrated with the fact that everything they found was pointing straight back to Reid's sister, and he was really starting to worry about Reid's reaction if it was true.

More than that, though, Derek had genuinely liked her and although he could tell there was a ferocity under the surface, he kind of liked Lexi. She was protective of her children and not afraid to stand up for herself or them. Sure, she had secrets, but so do most people.

Before leaving the therapist's office, she did give them one little thing to chew on, "I can tell you that she will confess if she has to, whether or not she really killed Will Reid, but before I did anything I would check those reports she filed with the police that were never followed-up on."

Branson had mentioned something similar earlier at the house, even seemed agitated about it. He wondered how exactly he'd forgotten about that particular moment and called JJ to gather the files, while taking Emily with him back to the station.

Those files were apparently important to what was happening in this case somehow.

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Rossi and Hotch stepped through the mess left at Will Reid's home piecing together what they knew.

"We know the unsub's organized, took the time to clean up the blood and get rid of the weapon, the axe." Rossi spoke aloud to noone in particular.

Hotch methodologically looked around the crime scene, "the blows to the head suggest a crime of passion, though, which wouldn't have been planned. If the killer wanted to clean up the blood, why use an axe?"

Rossi moved slowly toward a corner of the room next to the bathroom , which was the first room down the hallway, stooping down to look at a small something that caught his interest. "Hotch."

Aaron moved across the room quickly, curious as to whatever had caught Rossi's attention. Dave handed over the white towel that was stained in a red substance, presumably blood. "Blood splatter, Aaron, nowhere near where the body fell."

"The unsub was here and had taken a shower? It's definitely someone Will Reid knew. Bring that in, well have it tested."

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Jennifer Jureau watched the rookie cop stumble into the very back corner of the files to find what she was looking for, all the while assuring her that any of the statements made by Reid's sister were false. She had heard one of the Detective telling him to stress it.

JJ wasn't a profiler, but she spent most of her time around them and these cops were nervous about the F.B.I. looking through these files. There was something here, in these files.

The brunette boy, who looked to be no older than twenty, handed her one box full of files, packed full.

In her experience, that meant one of two things. The person making the complaints had a vendetta or the person was telling the truth, but noone wanted to listen.

JJ wasn't sure which was going to be better in the long run, for the team or her Spence.

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Reid sat in the car, staring at the house, ignoring Garcia, and wishing he didn't have to face this. He never really knew how to feel about his sister. Some childish part of him insisted that his dad had left because she'd pulled him out of the house. Then, some other part remembered what she was like before she left, how hard she tried afterward, and the logical part of his brain told him there was more to the story.

It took several minutes before he noticed Lexi watching him. After that, it took his brain a milisecond to process that she was sitting in a wheelchair.

He asked himself what had happened to put her in a wheelchair. At lightning speed, causes for physical disabilities spiraled through his head from car accident statistics to statistics about stroke.

As he stepped out of the car, he attempted to refocus on the reason he was here. Within moments, Garcia was at his side babbling, which the profiling part of his brain informed him, to keep him calm and relaxed to do this.

Lexi smiled at him as she opened the door to the house for him. The last time she had seen him had been the day after the night…

No, she couldn't allow herself to think about that, not now with Spencer standing in front of her.

They both stared appraisingly at the other for several minutes, before a cheerful voice interjected, "I'm…"

"Penelope Garcia," Lexi finished for her. "Yeah, I've heard a good bit about all of you."

She turned to Spencer, "I didn't know you'd told her anything…"

"I haven't," Spencer answered with a harsh voice, anger bubbling underneath the surface.

"I hear some things from Don and Charlie Eppes. The BAU is pretty talked about in FBI circles."

"Our cousins," Spencer asked, genuinely curious.

"Yeah, Charlie should be on his way as we speak to help with the boys, just in case…"

"You mean just in case we find evidence that you killed our father," Spencer seethed.

"You really think I could kill him?"

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"Why are you hopping a flight to Vegas right now," Don asked, once again aggravated at his brother's lack of consideration. The anniversary of their mother's death was tomorrow, their dad was a wreck, and for some reason Charlie chooses now to hop over to Vegas and check on their cousin.

"Don, I told her I wouldn't tell you, but Lexi's in some real trouble. Will's dead and the police are blaming her, and Spencer's on his way."

Don's eyes grew large, before he grabbed his coat and started dialing his dad's number. Sometimes he really didn't get their cousin. She gets in trouble with the law and instead of being practical, calling him (FBI), she calls Charlie, the mathmetician.

As soon as he'd talked to his dad, Charlie covinced Milly to show up and spend the day tomorrow, and he'd called his boss, they were on their way.


End file.
